Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series

by Nicholas C. Rossis

  She has our father’s head for strategy. He leaned towards her. “Gold. To an extent. And women. Mostly women. Perhaps you can help?”

  She tilted her head with a cute frown. “Me? What can I do?”

  He pursed his lips. “The best way to ensure Paul’s loyalty is to marry him to someone. Someone close to me. Someone who –”

  Understanding hit her and she rushed to her feet, sending the chair to crash on the floor. “No!”

  Shouldn’t you show her the price of disobedience? You’re her sovereign, after all. He struggled to ignore the dark whisper slithering in his head. “Let me finish. It won’t be so bad. Paul is a born survivor. If you marry him, he’ll take care of you, keep you safe –”

  She brought her fist to her mouth. “I’m not marrying Gauld! You can’t make me!”

  A shadow detached itself from the wall behind her and slipped towards them. “Actually, he can.”

  She whirled towards the short, bald man grinning at her. “This is your idea, isn’t it?”

  Teo shrugged. “I wish I were that smart. I was telling our prince what kind of a man Paul is, and he came up with the perfect plan to entice him.”

  She threw him an angry look as her cheeks flushed. “You can’t make me marry him. What are we, First?”

  In fact, most First tribes allow women to marry anyone they choose, Cyrus thought, but stayed silent. Another piercing pain stabbed his head, making him moan. This insolent girl must be taught a lesson, a voice whispered in his ear. His mind suddenly felt heavy, his thoughts thick sludge, like trudging through mud. “Listen, it’s your choice, of course,” he said in a soothing voice. “I just want what’s best for you.”

  “What’s best for me is for my brother to stay away from my personal life,” she shot back at him.

  He darted to his feet and watched in amazement as his hand shot up to smack her on the lips. She drew back, crying out in pain as she brought her hand to her face. It felt like a dream; as if he had no control over his own body. She deserved it, a reassuring voice whispered in his ear, leaving him confused; ashamed and furious at the same time.

  Blood trickled from her broken lip. She licked it, staring at him in shock and disbelief.

  “I’m sorry…” he started to say, then caught a flash of amusement on Teo’s face, and a wave of rage welled from deep within his soul to engulf him. How dare she humiliate me in front of the staff? “But you will do as I say,” he roared, trembling with sudden fury. His fingernails dug into his palm.

  Her shoulders tightened and she stepped over the overturned chair to stand before him defiantly. “And what if I say no?”

  He took a slow, deliberate step towards her. His hand jerked up again, catching her off guard. It landed on her cheek this time, making her stumble on the chair. Losing her balance, she crashed to the floor. She wailed in pain, then lunged at him to punch him repeatedly, if inefficiently. He caught her arms and immobilized her, rage blinding him.

  “Guards!” he bellowed. Two men broke hastily into the room. “You need to be taught a lesson,” he whispered to her in a vitriolic voice.

  “What, you’ll send me to bed early?” she snarled back at him.

  His eyes darkened and he turned to the two men standing uncertain at the door. “She attacked me. Throw her in prison.”

  “What are you doing?” she pleaded.

  The guards exchanged uneasy looks. “Now!” he ordered, and the two men hurried to obey. They grabbed her by her shoulders, ignoring her desperate attempts to escape.

  “You can’t do this!” she exploded as they dragged her away. “You can’t!”

  “I’ll come see you when you’ve calmed down,” he shouted at her, then returned to his desk. His head was killing him and he grabbed with gratitude the golden beaker that Teo handed him. He took a sniff; it was filled to the brim with sweet Jonian wine. One swift gulp and he handed it back to Teo.

  “I have to go,” he said and stormed to the door. He needed to clear his thoughts, but found it impossible to do that in his office. He swung the door open. To his surprise, a second door lay behind it, and he gripped the handle, flinging it open. A third one met him. He stared at it in disbelief for a moment. With both hands he tore it asunder, only to find a new one blocking his way, then another and another…

  He yelled at the door and it flew open as two new guards rushed into the room. They stared at him, a quizzical look on their faces. Cyrus stole a confused look into the corridor, the multitude of doors having disappeared. “What happened?” he asked the guards.

  They exchanged an uneasy look. “You opened and closed the door a number of times, then you screamed, Your Grace,” said one of the guards, avoiding his gaze. “Is everything alright?”

  He flung them aside and stormed down the corridor. “Everything is fine,” Teo’s calm voice said behind him. “Our prince needs some fresh air, that’s all.” Cyrus ignored both him and the guards rushing after him. If someone wanted to follow him, let them.

  Within a few moments he had reached the stables. Swinging the stable door open, he barked a command and a boy hastened to bring him his favourite stallion. He did not even know where he was heading as he galloped out into the woods; all he knew was that he had to find a place to clear his head.

  Malekshei

  Moirah

  “Moirah, you have visitors.”

  Hearing the shaman’s voice behind her, she glanced around and put down the branches she was carrying. At the familiar sight of David’s face, she felt a pang of pain in her heart, mixed with the joy of seeing him. David crashed into her open arms, holding her with a delight that surprised her.

  “Daveed!” she said in the melodic First idiom, a wide grin on her striking face as she hugged him back. “I’m so happy to see you!”

  He broke the embrace and took a step back, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, it’s just so good to be back.” He sniffed the air, taking in the pungent, yet pleasant smell of burned dung and wood that filled the crisp, spring air. “I’ve missed all this.” A chicken clucked under his feet, and he burst into laughter. “Even this.”

  She gave Annoush a warm embrace. The boy stood frozen in her arms, while his cheeks took on a crimson hue.

  “Any friend of Daveed is a friend of mine,” she said and turned her attention back to David. “It’s good to have you back. We heard what happened. I was hoping you’d come here, but didn’t know if you had made it.” Have you seen Lehmor? Do you know where my husband is?

  After Lehmor had caught her with Cyrus, he had disappeared. Her father had used his position as one of the two leaders of Malekshei to send out scouts to search through the North, but they had all returned empty-handed. Lehmor’s own father, the second leader, had offered a rich reward to any Newcomer who came forward with news of his son’s whereabouts; this, too, had gone unclaimed. Could David know something? The questions she ached to ask, somehow stayed in her mouth.

  Unaware of her silent plea, David motioned towards two men with the darkest skin she had ever seen, dressed in white robes, standing several feet behind him, deep hoods hiding their faces. “These are Lem and Ram. They kept me safe.”

  She walked towards them and stared at them. “Well met. Thank you for bringing David home.”

  The men bowed their heads. “Kasserian Engeri,” the tall one mumbled. “Thank you for welcoming us to your home,” said the other.

  She waited for them to continue, but they kept silent and she turned back to David, a teasing smile on her lips. “They don’t talk much, I see.”

  He chuckled. “It’s their swords, not their words, that have kept me safe.”

  She laughed heartily at this; perhaps too heartily. “Spoken like a true First. There’s hope for you yet.”

  A crowd started gathering around them, joyous villagers coming to greet David. Blacksmiths ran from all over to greet their patron saint, and a few women with babies in their arms came to ask for his blessing. Just like old times, Moirah thought and a flas
h of pain crossed her face. Only this time, I’m alone.

  David was doing his best to greet everyone at once, and Moirah shook the dark memories away. “The Elders must want to speak with you.” She took him by the hand, rescuing him from the growing crowd.

  “Thanks,” he whispered as he ran behind her.

  “The village missed you.” She paused. “We all missed you.” This time, the smile warmed her eyes.

  He stared at the castle standing at Malekshei’s centre for a long moment. She followed his eyes as they examined the wooden complex that had been erected on its left side, and the various new buildings surrounding it. At the back, neighs could be heard from the new stables.

  When he spoke, his voice sounded choked. “It’s funny how everything changes, and yet all is still the same. How do you do it?”

  She ran a nervous hand through her long hair, playing with a braid. Malekshei was the place they had freed from the Whispers not so long ago. Where all four of them, Cyrus, Lehmor, David and herself had fought off a horde of Fallen, standing side-by-side. It was a better time; a simpler time; although none of them could have known that back then.

  “For long, I was one. Now, we’re two,” she replied in a broken voice.

  A sad smile crawled onto David’s lips. “But it’s not the same, is it?”

  “No. It’s not,” she said, trying to fight back tears.

  He noticed the effect his words had and stammered. “I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He took her hands. “You haven’t heard from him, then?” Moirah shook her head. “I promise you we’ll find him. I once found Two-horns’ son. I can find Lehmor.”

  Her mind flew back to the day the chief of Malekshei’s warriors had lost his son. Even Two-horns’ might have not prevented the Whispers from taking him. “You found a dead body,” she reminded him and shivered.

  “He’s alive, Moirah!” David protested. “I promise!”

  “How do you know?” she asked, tearing her eyes away from his and letting her hands drop.

  “I just do,” he said stubbornly and grabbed her hand again. “Don’t lose hope, it’s what they want.”

  Before she could reply, she caught out of the corner of her eye Two-horns hurrying towards them, and her body tightened. He could not see her crying like a little girl.

  David followed her gaze towards the old man. “Two-horns,” he exclaimed and flew into the man’s arms.

  “Good to see you, my boy,” the old man said, taken aback by his affection. “We feared the boy-king had murdered you.”

  Darkness clouded David’s eyes for the briefest of seconds, and Moirah realised he was in as much pain as she was. She reached out and grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it lightly to let him know he was not alone.

  “It’s not his fault,” David protested. “The Whispers have him. We need a way to free him.”

  “Perhaps. But we must deal with other problems first,” she said.

  David threw an inquisitive look at Moirah. “Other problems?” he asked.

  Two-horns scoffed. “You haven’t heard? The boy-king is preparing his armies for war.”

  David seemed confused. “War? Against whom?”

  “Jonia. Us. The West. We don’t know yet. But we must be ready.” Two-horns threw an arm around David’s shoulders and guided him into the castle. “Now, come. We all have many questions for you.” He turned around to look at Moirah. “You too. You’re one of the Elders now.”

  David threw a bemused look at her, as she rushed behind them. “Really? And you look so young!”

  She ran towards them and elbowed his ribs. “Shut up,” she said and he laughed. His gaze travelled up and down her body, examining her. His laughter died abruptly when it reached her belly, and he paused there, a confused look on his face.

  “What?” she asked. Then a thought hit her. Could he know? But how? No-one knows!

  He tilted his head and studied her. “Moirah, are you…?” He pointed at the spot where a new life was growing.

  She broke into a fine sweat. She had forgotten his sudden insights, the result of his long hosting of an Orb.

  Seeing her silence, he nodded his understanding. “I won’t tell anyone,” he whispered. “But they’ll know soon enough. Is it…?”

  She gave him an uncertain nod and a shrug. Women are supposed to know, aren’t we? But I don’t! I just don’t!

  “Are you two coming?” Two-horns’ voice boomed in the stairwell. David threw her a worried look and rushed up the stairs. She followed on wobbling legs a few seconds later.

  Chamber of Justice, the Capital

  Angel

  The door slammed behind the guard, Angel still trying to understand what was happening. They had dragged her out of her brother’s office and down several corridors she had no idea existed. Down and down they went, past long stairwells, until they arrived at a thick door. One of the guards banged his fist against it, and it creaked open. Behind it lay a long corridor, lined with dark cells. The only light came in thin rays, squeezing through narrow slits on the walls, high above their heads. She shivered at the sound of pained moans from the darkness of the cells. Her nostrils flared at the pungent smell of stale sweat, urine and vinegar.

  A smelly guard dressed in a soiled uniform emerged from behind the door. He was holding a plate with the carcass of a half-eaten chicken. He absent-mindedly wiped his fingers on his shirt to grab her.

  “What have we here?”

  “She’s not to be touched,” her guard snarled and pulled her back.

  “Ah, come on, Sam. She’s precious, this one.”

  “That she is,” the guard he had identified as Sam said, taking one threatening step towards the man. “And she’d better remain that way.”

  “I get it, she’s your gal,” the man said and winked before roaring in laughter. He placed the plate on a table and made a movement towards them.

  Sam’s fingers dug into Angel’s arm, making her whimper. “I’m sorry,” he said and immediately released her. He pointed a finger at the cackling guard. “You got away with it once. If you touch even a hair –”

  A sullen frown replaced the laughter. “You promised you’d never mention that again,” the guard complained.

  “Stop it, you two,” her second guard snapped at them. “Xhi, just take her into a cell. And Sam’s right, you touch her and it’s not just your head that will roll. This is the prince’s sister.”

  The blood left the man’s face. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “Well, now you know,” Sam growled and turned to leave.

  “Don’t worry, lover-boy, I’ll take good care of her.”

  “Not a hair,” Sam said, wagging his finger as he left the hall.

  “You’ll get me into trouble,” Xhi complained to Angel as he took a large key from his belt and unlocked one of the far doors. He motioned her towards him and she took an uneasy step.

  “Your name is Xhi?” she asked.

  “Zhang Xhi, at your service,” he said with a funny little bow. “I hope you enjoy my hospitality.” He laughed as he pushed her inside the dank cell.

  Once inside, she sat heavily on a hay-covered mattress. What is happening? Half her face burned from Cyrus’s strike, and she jiggled a tooth with her tongue. Pressing her palm against her face, she started to cry in soft sobs.

  Capital Outskirts

  Cyrus

  Tears welled in his eyes; he could not tell if they were from the wind that stung his face or not. What was wrong with him? First he had driven his only friends away, then he hit his sister? The person he cared most for in the entire world; the person he’d do anything to see happy?

  He let the horse take him wherever it wanted, not caring about his destination. Sometimes the stallion galloped, but more often it trotted deeper into the thick forest east of the Capital. The thick, aromatic smell of pines and evergreens filled the air as the horse’s hooves unearthed mouldy leaves and pine needles, but Cyrus ignored it, lost in thought. Da
rkness surrounded him when the beast finally faltered under him and he realized he had no idea where he was. He had been riding for hours in an eastward direction, but his whereabouts were unfamiliar, with no clearing in sight. He dismounted to let the horse rest for a while, wishing he had a blanket to throw over it, for the night was chilly, and thick sweat covered its muscular body.

  He patted the beast while studying the forest. He had left the Capital in the morning, and the darkness surrounding him suggested it was early evening. Even if the sun had not set yet, the tall trees hid it from him. Soon it would be too dark to see. A gust of wind pulled some branches and he caught a glimpse of a fire somewhere in the distance. Clasping his Sheimlek he started towards it. The light turned out to be farther away than it looked, and it was almost dark by the time he broke into a clearing overlooking a steep cliff. A man was sitting in front of a small fire, his back half-turned towards him. Cyrus snuck out of the woods and crept behind him. A branch snapped under his foot, and the stranger jumped to his feet, spinning around. The fire lit his face and Cyrus froze in his tracks. “You!” he exclaimed.

  They stared at each other in stunned silence. The man was the first to break the spell. “What are you doing here?” His voice reflected his surprise.

  “I could ask you the same thing. We’ve looked everywhere for you! I thought you’d gone up North with Moirah.”

  Lehmor clasped unconsciously the Sheimlek hanging from his belt. “I don’t want to fight,” Cyrus said. He could see the hurt in Lehmor; the pain of the loss. “You should go back to her,” he continued.

  “How can I after what you did?” Lehmor demanded.

  “Because you love each other. And I realized today we shouldn’t hurt the ones we love.”

  “Is that right?” Lehmor said with contempt. “A little late for that, don’t you think?”

  He’s right, Cyrus realized. What can I say to make this better? “You two are like brother and sister to me –” he said, then a pang of pain burst inside his head and he stopped. What he did with Moirah had nothing to do with Lehmor. He wanted her, and he’d had her; damn the consequences. He had not cared about Lehmor’s feelings then, why should he care now?